Page 5 of Knot my First Rodeo

My phone rings, startling me from sleep. I look around and see that I’m still in our living room, and The Alpha Bachelorette continues to play on the TV. I must have dozed off. Digging for my phone in the cushions of the couch, I pull it out and see that it’s Gidge. She’s the only person other than my brother who has my number, and she never calls. I’m assuming she’s looking for Hunter, and if she’s calling me for him, his ass is gonna be in trouble for not answering.

“Hello?” I answer, trying to sound strong, but even on the phone, Gidge is intimidating.

“Hey, Scrappy. Your brother said you’re leaving tonight, and that you’re not very happy about it,” Gidge answers.

I roll my eyes at the nickname, not that I can’t agree. It’s the truth. I did smack the hell out of Heather when I saw her the day after I caught Peter. She cried like a bitch, but now she gives me snotty smirks whenever she sees me. When I go back to the clubhouse after Peter stops being a psycho, I’ll do it again if she doesn’t knock her shit off.

“How would you like to be forced to live with alphas you’ve never met before? I’m being shipped off like a Pomeranian, so Hunter doesn’t have to deal with me.”

“Scrappy. You know that’s not what he’s doing. He loves you more than anything in this world, including this club. I’m sorry trouble caught up with me here. But believe me, if the people who are searching for me find out our Secretary has an unbonded omega for a sister, you’ll be in danger,” she sighs.

While I don’t know Gidge that well, I know that she takes no shit and doesn’t hand out sympathy to many, so she means it.

“And what if these dudes he’s sending me to are just as bad? What if they’re cruel and mean, and wanna lock me up in a basement or some shit? Hunter hasn’t seen them in years; they could be totally different from what he remembers from their friendship,” I whine and slap a hand over my mouth in embarrassment.

Gidge chuckles. “Do you really think I’d let our Secretary send my favorite omega to some dickheads? I had them thoroughly looked into. Minus living in the middle of nowhere, which seems kind of boring to me, they're squeaky clean. One got pulled over for driving under the influence, but was let off with a warning, which I’m assuming is because it's a small town in the USA. If they give you any trouble, you call my phone and I’ll come get you, no matter what, you hear me?”

“The hell you will, woman!” I hear someone shout in the background.

“Shut it, Titus! I did just fine before you, and I’ll be fine if I have to go rescue my girl. Who else will hate on the club cunts you insist on keeping around?” Gidge snaps back, and I try to suppress the laugh that she called the most dangerous MC member his legal name, and talked back on top of that.

“Fine. I’ll go, but I won’t hesitate to call you if shit is bad, Gidge. You’re my only female friend, and you’re kinda old and scary,” I giggle.

“You little shit! I’m only twenty-seven. Just for that, and since you’re leaving and I can’t hit you, I’m gonna have to go punch Heather. What a shame.” She fakes a sad tone as she talks.

“Babe, don’t you go out there causing no shit with the club whores. If they deserve it, fine. But you can’t just be beating on them for no reason,” I hear someone tell her.

“I can, and I will. Plus, it’s not all the club whores. Just Heather, and she did do something to me. She hurt my little bestie, and don’t think I didn’t see her give Raiden the googly eyes this morning when y’all went to church. I don’t know why she’s still here. Honestly, I should just kill her and get it over with,” Gidge grinds out. I can tell Heather is in for a rude awakening when we hang up.

Gidge is the omega to three of the officers, but she’s just as crazy and dangerous as they are. I’m shocked that if she feels so strongly about Heather, that said club whore is still allowed at the clubhouse. Gidge must have an endgame no one knows about.

“Alright, well, I’m gonna let you do that. I’ll talk to you later. You better answer if I call, Gidge.” I try to hold back the tears that are threatening to leave my eyes.

“Love you, Scrappy. One call, that’s all it will take for me to be there, picking your ass up. Hell, I’ll even bring Dillon.” With that, she hangs up and I’m left staring at my phone screen while wiping my eyes with my other hand.

I no sooner get my phone in my hoodie pocket than Hunter hurries into the room. “Change of plans, Autumn. We’re flying.”

“What? Why?” I ask. I mean, I only have a bag, a suitcase, and a backpack, but we were driving, so I’m curious as to why there is a sudden change of plans.

“Gears called and wants me back at the clubhouse for church. Since you didn’t pack as much as we thought ya would, it’ll be faster to fly. You should be happy. Now you don't have to spend all that time in a car with me. Plus, the faster we get there, the faster I can help deal with the problem back here, and the faster you can come home. So let’s go. Our flight leaves in two hours.”

Chapter

Four

Tripp

Hunter called last night and informed us they’d be here bright and early this morning. Apparently, something came up with the club, and now they were flying, so the omega must not be bringing much with her. We offered to pick them up from the airport, but Hunter said his sister was apprehensive about this whole setup, and he wanted to rent a car so they could spend the last leg of the trip together.

He needs to remember that his sister is a young omega and he’s pretty much dumping her off with strangers– alphas at that– and it’s not normal at all. Hell, I’ve been thrown off a thousand-pound bronc, and that still sounds less stressful than this whole situation.

Hunter was always a good friend to me, though. We just lost touch when he moved to Virginia and found his place with the Renegade. We tried to catch up here and there via texts or social media, but what can a bronc rider and a motorcycle club member really chat about? He can’t tell me about club business and he doesn’t understand rodeo life, so we drifted apart.

“Is everything ready? Do you think we got enough food and stuff? What if she doesn’t like any of the snacks we bought?” Clint paces the living room as I sit on the couch, looking for something to watch.

“She’ll get what she gets, and she won’t throw a fit,” Briggs murmurs from the recliner where he’s sitting.

“We bought the most common snacks. It will be fine. If she wants anything special, we can have her write a list, then we can pick them up,” I reassure him.